Thanks for joining me!
“All I have seen teaches me to trust the creator for all I have not seen.” -Ralph Waldo Emerson
Viumbe Vyote Vya Mungu Wetu Na Mfalme Wetu
“All creatures of our God and King,” seems like a benign beginning, a nice platitudinous acknowledgement of the creator. But. . .the song swells. The thoughts grow.
at the magnitude
at the way
and sung the stars
into the heavens,
the breath into mankind.
The rhythm of the familiar hymn sung in Swahili surges through my mind like a pulsating, driving force. It propels, for music bypasses my intellect and speaks to my spirit.
The pumpkin-colored sun rolls into its position above the escarpment. It filters through the pale morning light setting the scene ablaze with equatorial clarity. We are awake at dawn. The chickens began chuckling half-an-hour ago and we tumble-down the stairs hoping for water for a bath.
It is dry. The ground is fissured and the grass crackles beneath our feet. The long rains of winter did not come and people are hungry. They have chopped the grass with pongas (machetes) in our front yard to feed their scrawny cows. We have no butter and little milk because the cows aren’t producing.
Our world has shrunken from CNN to refugees on our doorstep. Somalis, Ethiopians, Kikuyu mingle uneasily under the hospital’s trees. World weary eyes beg for their children’s lives. It is not enough to write a check, smile and say, “Go, be filled.”
So, we are here. Praying for rain for the shambas, (gardens). Praying for true peace in the world. Seeing the selfishness of mankind up close and personal reinforces our faith even in the midst of our sadness and grief at the suffering. There is one simple answer. We celebrate His life each day. A cup of cold water to a person at the door, a prayer for a starving child, hope shared with the hospital pastor as he struggles to feed the displaced and heal the broken-hearted.
The students at the missionary school are fasting one meal per day so their food can go to the local children.